


The Corrupt and the Wicked

by Xazien



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5041030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xazien/pseuds/Xazien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 9:38 Dragon and Hawke has been on the run from Kirkwall for almost a year, her faithful lover Merrill in tow. After a year as destitute fugitives their luck suddenly takes a turn for the better when they run into the legendary long-lost Hero of Ferelden, his mysterious wife Morrigan and their eery son Kieran. Things take a dark turn, however, when they realise that The Warden is not quite the hero he's painted to be and find out exactly how far Grey Wardens are willing to go to stop the darkspawn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Champion, The Hero, The Pariah

“Where do you think we are?” Merrill asked. She knew the answer, she was just making conversation. Anything to fill the constant silence.

“Somewhere around Ferelden’s north coast,” Hawke responded dully. She wasn’t in the mood to talk. She hadn’t been for about a year. She found the constant rain made plenty of noise for both of them. But of course she tried her best to keep the conversation going, just for the faint smile it put on Merrill’s lips. “There are a few villages around but the closest major settlement is Orzammar, which has a mountain range in the way. Although I guess if you want to go buy some supplies the merchants there are less likely to ask questions.”

A whole year. One entire year on the run. One year since Hawke and Merrill last walked the streets of Kirkwall, last drank at The Hanged Man, last saw their friends. Sure, they had regular letters from Varric and an occasional tip-off message from Aveline about Templars in the area but that wasn’t the same. That didn’t make up for the fact that they’d spent the past year living in caves, poaching or stealing for food and having to choose between fight or flight every time a Templar patrol got too suspicious. Flight was always the best option in that situation but that hadn’t stopped Hawke and Merrill from slaughtering every Templar thug that came within ten meters. Made them feel better. Probably didn’t have the same effect on the Templars.

“I want to go search the forest,” Merrill announced.

Hawke wasn’t surprised. Merrill always preferred for them to camp in forests, longing to feel at home among nature like she was back with the Dalish, relishing in reminiscing about the only part of that life she missed. Things like this were why Hawke loved her, but why oh why did she have to love her back. She could have stayed in Kirkwall and helped the elves, joined Isabela’s crew, tried to go back to the Dalish, done literally anything other than follow her. But of course, because Merrill loved Hawke, she’d gone with her. And she’d suffered with her.

Everyone who followed Hawke just ended up suffering with her.

***

The man in the trees watched the two women, the human and the elf, wandering aimlessly through the forest. The human seemed familiar but he couldn’t quite place where from, and she was being extremely cautious and watchful. Not as cautious and watchful as she thought she was being, of course. She hadn’t grown up a hunter living in the forest. The elf was something of an oddity, he noted. She was clearly Dalish, her vallaslin marked her out as such from miles away, but she flitted and traipsed through the forest like she hadn’t truly set foot in one in years. If only he could get a closer look...

And then he saw the elf’s face. Just for a moment, just the briefly of glimpses, but it was enough. He knew her; hers was a face he hadn’t seen in almost ten years but he knew her. You never forget the most familiar faces from your childhood. You never forget your own clan.

He had to see her. He had to see them both.

***

Hawke forced herself to stay alert. While Merrill frolicked in the forest, picking flowers and chasing fennecs, all Hawke wanted to do was join her. But she’d heard twigs snap, she’d heard voices, and they weren’t just in her head. Probably just poachers but Hawke had to keep an eye out, she always had to keep an eye out without a moment’s rest. To lose focus while on the run could be worse than suicide. It could mean the death of Merrill, something Hawke would never allow.

Another twig snapped behind Hawke and she spun around, palms ablaze with flame, but it was just a fox darting between the trees. She cursed herself for her paranoia: if there was one thing she’d learned from Meredith it was that being paranoid could be just as dangerous as being lax.

“Well done, you look very alert. I was almost impressed.”

Hawke did a u-turn and threw a bolt of lightning at the source of the voice, the spell hitting nothing. A shadow moved in the corner of her eye and she dived out of the way just in time to dodge the dark, lithe shape that leapt from the trees above. Bringing up her staff to attack Hawke summoned a flame in her hand but before she could even move she was on the ground. It happened so fast she hadn’t even seen her attacker move, he’d just slammed a leg into her side and flipped her over his shoulder before she could even blink. And now she was staring up at the arrowhead that was pointed right at her face, notched into the string of an exquisite heartwood bow. An elven man, one with tanned skin and black high dragon leather armour and beautiful silver vallaslin marking him out as Dalish, held the bow with a ruthless and chilling confidence. It was then that Hawke realised she was completely at his mercy.

“My apologies, madam. I simply wished to greet an old friend.”

As suddenly as he’d appeared the elven man had removed his arrow, slung his bow on his back and turned away to face Merrill. Hawke was prepared to spring into action until he saw the look on her lover’s face: not fear, not anger, simply recognition followed by awe.

“M-M-Mahariel? Ma Lethallin?”

“The very same,” the elven man said with a cocky grin. “It’s been too long, Merrill.”

“You two... you two know each other?” Hawke asked, pulling herself to her feet and picking a leaf from her hair. “Merrill, step back. This man tried to kill me.”

“No!” Merrill cried, dashing to the elven man’s side and wrapping him in a huge hug. “Mahariel, ma Lethallin, I thought you were dead. You and Tamlen both.”

“Did... did you say Mahariel?” Hawke was taken aback. “The Hero of Ferelden? That’s impossible. You’re missing, or dead, or something else.”

“I was missing,” The Warden responded. “Now you’ve found me I guess I no longer am. Or rather I found you, and I did that quite spectacularly. I’d have it no other way.” He turned to Merrill. “When I saw you, old friend, I just couldn’t ignore you. I haven’t seen anyone in the clan since the Blight ended. Forgive me for attacking your friend, whose name is...?”

“Hawke,” Hawke responded, a steely edge to her voice. “Tamra Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall.”

A small flicker of surprise flashed across The Warden’s face, then it was gone. “My my, it’s a small world...” Some other expression flashed across his face, one that Hawke couldn’t quite place. Had she just imagined it, or did The Warden just hide the faintest of smiles?

“Gadreel Mahariel,” The Warden introduced himself, sticking out a welcoming hand for Hawke to shake. “Hero of Ferelden, former Warden-Commander of Ferelden, former Arl of Amaranthine and Champion of Redcliffe.”

Hawke shook his hand, quietly annoyed at the tone he’d used to list his titles. “A pleasure to meet you, Serah Mahariel. If only our original greeting had been as friendly.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” The Warden responded. “Now please, now I’ve caught up with Merrill here and met the charming Champion of Kirkwall, how can I not invite you for dinner? Catch up with an old friend and get to know a new one. Please, I insist.”

Hawke almost did a double take. The Hero of Ferelden had just invited her to dinner. In the back of her mind she knew she should say no. She and Merrill had to keep going, they had to leave this region before sundown or they’d have stayed in one place too long. She knew she shouldn’t trust this man at face value, but she knew one thing better than anything. She knew that she and Merrill hadn’t eaten properly in months. She knew that Merrill would never forgive her if she turned down a catch-up with her childhood friend for her.

She knew that she would say yes.


	2. Dine with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their encounter with the mysterious and long-lost Hero of Ferelden Hawke and Merrill have returned with him to meet his family, the witch Morrigan and their son Kieran

There were five of them around the table. Gadreel sat at the head of the table, his beautiful wife Morrigan to his left and their young son Kieran to his right. Hawke sat next to Morrigan and Merrill next to Kieran. The young boy, who couldn’t have been more than seven years old, was staring at Hawke intently. He chilled her to the bone.

“So glad you took me up on my offer, Champion,” Gadreel said, smiling warmly. “And Merrill too, of course. Morrigan is a wonderful cook and I’m sure you’ll greatly enjoy all we have to offer.”

The food did look delicious, Hawke noted. Fine meats, fresh fruits, expensive-looking dwarven mead, this table had it all. Remarkable really, especially for a family that lived in a cave on the border of Amaranthine. The cave was surprisingly warm, however, and there wasn’t even a single giant spider. The Mahariel family had it all.

“So I must ask, Warden-Commander,” Hawke asked while carving her meat. “Where have you been all this time? I heard you went through an Eluvian with Morrigan in 9:34 Dragon and haven’t been seen since.” Hawke did her best to ignore the look on Merrill’s face when she said ‘Eluvian’.

“Please, it’s just Gadreel,” Gadreel replied. “I passed the title of Warden-Commander onto my friend Nathaniel after I left the Wardens to start a family and pursue... other matters. So just Gadreel, please.”

“Where you investigating Eluvians?” Merrill almost leapt out of her seat with excitement. “I was repairing my own, one I found in Kirkwall, before I destroyed it. But have you learned anything? How to create them, or track them, or what they do?”

Gadreel and Morrigan chuckled as Hawke sighed. Kieran just kept staring, like he was studying them.

“I’ve not been studying Eluvians, Merrill,” Gadreel explained. “Morrigan knows a little but that is not our real priority. You may have heard the rumour that I am searching for a cure for the Taint? It is just that, a rumour, one I had my friend Leliana spread. When I undertook The Joining I swore an oath to bear the Taint and destroy the darkspawn and that is exactly what I am doing. You are familiar with the Disciples, are you not?”

Hawke certainly was. After she had faced the darkspawn Disciple calling itself The Harrowed in the Deep Roads she’d had her Warden friends Anders and Loghain and her brother Carver teach her everything they knew about those vile creatures. Darkspawn, fed Grey Warden blood by The Architect, given free will and minds of their own. Free will they used to continue killing.

“After I killed The Architect I dedicated myself to tracking down the other Disciples and Ancient Magisters,” Gadreel continued. “Grey Wardens exist to stop Blights but a Blight doesn’t need an Archdemon, all it needs is a sentient darkspawn to command a horde on the surface. The Disciples and Ancient Magisters are just as much as a threat to the world as Archdemons. I have killed plenty of Disciples but there are still some out there, as well as at least five more Ancient Magisters. I would have six to contend with, but luckily for me you gave me a hand with that, didn’t you Champion?” Gadreel smiled at Hawke, who gave a weak smile in return. “You killed Corypheus, an action which helped me immeasurably. I had the Wardens in the Free Marches send Corypheus’s corpse to my research base at Soldier’s Peak for study. That corpse, along with the corpses of The Architect and any Disciples I have slain, have helped the Wardens to no end.”

“Your work sounds fascinating, Gadreel,” Hawke said. “If only my work for the mage resistance was as... world-shaking.”

Gadreel gave another of those light-hearted chuckles. It sounded fake, just like all the others had. He didn’t fool her.

“We all do our bit, Champion,” Gadreel assured her. He sounded patronising. “Although... no, no, I couldn’t ask such a thing of my guests.”

Hawke refrained herself from sighing. This is exactly what she’d been expecting. “Are you perhaps seeking help with your quest, Gadreel? I warn you, myself and Merrill are hardly great Grey Wardens such as yourself. I’m not sure how much use we could be.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Champion,” Gadreel gave another one of those Maker-damned chuckles. “You killed Corypheus, did you not? As luck would have it, Morrigan has acquired the location of a highly intelligent Disciple named The Seeker and we plan to track him down and capture him. Yes, capture him. Experimenting on corpses only gets us so far. My head researcher at Soldier’s Peak has requested a live Disciple to experiment on, and I believe that with your help I could fulfil his request.”

Hawke looked across the table at Merrill, uneasy, but she could see Merrill had already been won over. Reuniting with her old clan mate had one thing but this witch Morrigan, with all her hidden knowledge on Eluvians? Merrill could hardly contain herself. It looked like Hawke had little choice.

“Of course, Gadreel. We’d be honoured to help.”

***

“You always were a cunning one, my love,” Morrigan said wistfully.

Gadreel lay back in the bathtub while Morrigan massaged his shoulders from behind him, planting the occasional kiss on his neck. Hawke and Merrill had gone to sleep on the floor of the cave in the bedrolls provided for them. They didn’t need to know that the Mahariel family had beds to sleep in. Gadreel sighed, letting the warm water lap over him as Morrigan gently tended to him. This was the life.

“This is only the first stage of the plan,” Gadreel explained. “Having their aid in capturing The Seeker will be useful but the best part will be the sense of trust and camaraderie we gain from fighting alongside each other. The Champion will trust me. And then I’ll cash in my chips.”

Gadreel clicked his fingers and Kieran dashed in, awaiting a command.

“Good boy, Kieran,” Gadreel congratulated him. “After your mother and I are done I’m going to write a message, one I want you to send to Warden-Commander Howe at Vigil’s Keep. Do not fail me, boy, and do not tell either of our guests about it. This famous new ally of ours will prove extremely useful.”


	3. Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Merrill have agreed to follow the long-lost Hero of Ferelden Gadreel Mahariel on his mission to capture the illusive darkspawn Disciple known as The Seeker. The two apostates have journeyed to the mysterious Warden fortress known as Soldier's Peak to meet with their Warden ally

Soldier’s Peak was not what Hawke had expected. After hearing the legends, the tales of Sophia Dryden’s battle against the tyrannical King Arland and Gadreel’s vanquishing of the demon army that seized the fortress, she’d expected a towering castle with a moat or a mighty citadel with mile-high walls of stone and legions of Wardens to guard it. In reality Soldier’s Peak was little more than a small fort, an unremarkable building with adequate defences and not a Warden in sight. The only sign of life was a light in the window of the keep’s tower.

“Champion, Lethallin, you came.”

Hawke looked up to see Gadreel making his way down the steps leading to the keep’s entrance, Morrigan at his side. Hawke was silently thankful that the eerie Kieran boy was nowhere to be seen.

“I do hope the journey wasn’t too arduous,” Gadreel said. “This mountain range is hardly The Frostbacks but is unforgiving, and that cave system is treacherous. I trust the map I supplied you with was accurate?”

“Everything to the letter, Gadreel,” Hawke said coolly. “Any reasons we’re meeting in this desolate wasteland and not at The Seeker’s cave?”

“All in good time, my friend,” Gadreel assured her as he and Morrigan walked up the stairs towards the keep’s entrance, beckoning to Hawke and Merrill to follow. “I have some people I’d like you to meet.”

Hawke was relieved to finally be indoors as she stepped inside Soldier’s Peak, brushing the snow off her shoulders. The Veil here was scarred, she noted, but strong, as if it had been shattered open then hammered back together again. It would appear the stories of Gadreel’s vanquishing of the demon army were true.

“Vehnan!” Merrill sharply elbowed Hawke, her voice filled with fear, and Hawke reached for her staff and shielded Merrill with her body as she saw the two Templars stood in the main hall of the keep. She was seconds from firing a lightning bolt before Gadreel threw an arm around her shoulders and dragged her forwards, whispering ‘play along’ into her ear. In the corner of her eye Hawke saw Morrigan smirking as she leant against a beam.

“I forgot to tell you, my friend, that I had two representatives from The Chantry meeting here today,” Gadreel said with a hearty laugh as he clapped her on the back before gesturing to the two Templars. One was an unremarkable man with brown hair and stubble, the other was an older man with cropped silver hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. “My Templar friends,” Gadreel addressed the Templars. “These are two new acquaintances of mine, Petra and Lanaya.” He nodded at Hawke and then Merrill. “Petra, Lanaya, these are two fine Templars from Amaranthine’s Chantry. This here is Ser Silas Courthwaite,” Gadreel nodded at the brown-haired Templar. “And his silver fox of a friend here is Knight-Captain Cedric.” He gestured to the silver-haired Templar. “Two fine men, here to discuss our researcher buying lyrium for his experiments. I believe they were just leaving?”

“Of course, Warden-Commander,” Knight-Captain Cedric said with a drawl. “A pleasure to be here, as usual. Come, Silas. The Revered Mother is expecting us.”

Hawke and Merrill watched with bated breath as the two Templars left the keep, muttering amongst themselves. Sighing, Gadreel once again gestured for them to follow.

“My apologies, my dear friends. I assumed those two would have left by now. But nevermind, let us continue on to the tower.”

“How come The Chantry knows where you’ve been?” Hawke asked as they walked along. “How many people know exactly?”

“Outside of the Ferelden Wardens and my own family, only a few,” Gadreel replied. “My old party from the Fifth Blight knows, as do a few contacts in The Chantry and all the major cities in Thedas, including Orzammar and Minrathous. It would be impossible to fulfil my quest without informants, although my friend Leliana does co-ordinate most of that for me in her own name. As far as most of Thedas knows, however, the Hero of Ferelden is lost. It’s best they continue to think that too.”

The three of them made it across the snow-covered bridge to the keep’s tower; the one Hawke had seen the light coming from. There was an unpleasant smell coming from the tower, Hawke noted, as well as an uncomfortable feeling. It was as if the Veil was Tainted. There was hideous magic being performed in there, the very air around the tower was vile. As Gadreel swung open the door Hawke knew that she would not like what she saw within.

But nothing could prepare her for the chamber of horrors that lay inside.

Hawke almost threw up at the sight of the laboratory. Darkspawn corpses, some Disciples, hung from the walls and ceilings like they were on display in a butcher’s, appendages cut off and torsos cut open. There were tables covered in darkspawn bits, vials of blood and lyrium, even what appeared to be darkspawn hearts and brains. Hawke shuddered as she saw the corpse hung in pride of place in the centre of the far wall: the unforgettable body of the ancient darkspawn magister Corypheus.

“I love what you’ve done with the place, Avernus,” Gadreel called out into the hellish room, his voice echoing. There was a brief rustling sound and a bald, elderly mage in Warden robes stepped out of a side door, drying his hands with a red towel. Hawke had a feeling that towel hadn’t always been red.

“Guests again?” the mage, Avernus, asked with a frustrated tone. “My work is important, Mahariel, and I cannot continue with these constant interruptions.”

“These are the friends I spoke of,” Gadreel replied. “Hawke and Merrill. They’re going to help me capture The Seeker.”

“Very well, very well,” Avernus said, not looking at any of them. “If you insist on bringing them here then fine. I assume they’ll be helping with the others?”

“Others?” Hawke turned to Gadreel, eyebrow raised. “How many of these quests are you dragging us along on, Mahariel? I’m doing this as a favour to an old friend of Merrill’s, I’m not looking for a new way in life.”

“Trust me, I do not expect your permanent company,” Gadreel assured her. “Avernus has simply requested I capture multiple Disciples and regular darkspawn alive in order for him to have a large enough sample size for his research. I can handle those fine, I assure you, I simply seek your help on this one matter. Are you satisfied?”

Hawke nodded reluctantly while Merrill stayed silent. She was still gazing in horror at Avernus’s ‘work’.

“Sir, you made it,” a voice called from across the room. A man in leather Warden armour appeared out of another side door on the far side of the lab, a bow slung across his back and a familiar soul patch upon his chin. Hawke smiled as she recognised Nathaniel Howe.

“Nathaniel, I’m glad you agreed to come along,” Gadreel strode across the room and shook Nathaniel’s hand before pointing to Hawke and Merrill. “I believe you’re already acquainted with the Champion and her paramour?”

Nathaniel nodded and smiled. “Merrill and The Champion saved me and a few others from a darkspawn raid in the Deep Roads a few years back. I’m glad to be serving alongside you again.”

“Likewise, Warden-Commander Howe,” Hawke replied with a friendly tone. It seemed like Nathaniel had been the only pleasant sight since they arrived at Soldier’s Peak. “Will you be joining us in the hunt for The Seeker?”

“I will be,” Nathaniel answer. “I, the Commander here, you and Merrill will be making an excursion into a small cave not far from here, where we believe The Seeker is hiding. As we’re all either archers or mages here we’ll be aiming to surround the darkspawn group and fire at them from the shadows, neutralising the regular darkspawn and incapacitating The Seeker for capture. I assume you’re ready to set off?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Hawke replied. “Let’s go catch ourselves a monster.”

***

The cave was dark, especially seeing as Gadreel had forbidden the use of torches or magical flame. The cave could have many hidden escape routes, he’d said, and they didn’t want to alert The Seeker to their presence. Them fumbling around in the dark would alert them just as much, Hawke had said, but Gadreel had told her to simply follow him and Nathaniel. They didn’t need eyes when they could sense their way through the path, the Tainted walls guiding them through the cave and their connection with The Seeker driving them forwards. There was no risk of the darkspawn sensing them, Gadreel had assured her. Avernus had devised a spell which prevented Wardens from being sensed by darkspawn while allowing the Wardens to retain their own sensory abilities.

“Just around the next corner,” Nathaniel whispered. “Gadreel and I will use our stealth to get past the darkspawn and up against the other wall of the cave. Once we give the signal start attacking at range from the shadows and we’ll do the same. We can cut down the regular darkspawn before they even know we’re here, and then capture The Seeker.”

Hawke and Merrill nodded as the two Warden tiptoed off, skulking through the shadows as the two mages readied their staffs. As they turned the corner Hawke and Merrill saw the darkspawn group, squatting in the middle of the cave. Ten Hurlocks and one Hurlock Disciple that could only be The Seeker, all feasting on the corpse of a nug. Poor creature. Across the cave Hawke saw Gadreel and Nathaniel notching arrows into their bows and pulling the strings back tight. Gadreel’s eyes, glowing green in the darkness like all Dalish’s did, blinked twice. That was the signal.

And then they all opened fire.

The regular Hurlocks were cut down in moments, arrows piercing their flesh and spells tearing them apart. An arrow shattered against The Seeker’s breastplate and an energy bolt narrowly missed the Disciple’s head as the sentient darkspawn ducked and rolled to avoid the barrage of missiles, leaping to his feet once the volley had stopped and drawing a twisted blade made of black metal, swinging the sword at Merrill’s neck. The blade narrowly missed as Merrill ducked and thrust her staff outward, striking The Seeker in the stomach. The blow did nothing, however, simple bouncing off the tough darkspawn armour, so Hawke pushed at the air and sent The Seeker stumbling backwards. That armour must weigh a ton, Hawke realised, as that spell should have sent him flying. The Seeker raised his blade again but an arrow flew from the shadows and knocked the sword from the darkspawn’s hand, sending it clattering to the ground. Another arrow flew in and struck The Seeker’s head. The helmet protected the darkspawn from a killing blow, as whichever Warden fired the arrow had likely expected, but it stunned the Disciple for a brief second and allowed Hawke to whip her knife from her belt, cut open her palm and send a small jet of blood into The Seeker’s mouth and down his throat. The Seeker stiffened, arched his back, screeched and then relaxed, body completely still.

“Blood magic, Champion?” Gadreel’s voice called from the shadows. The Hero stepped from the darkness, Nathaniel at his side, a look of mock disapproval on his face. “Well, whatever gets the job done, am I right?” Gadreel stepped towards The Seeker and caressed the darkspawn’s face, smiling darkly to himself. “We’ll bind him and take him to Soldier’s Peak. I’ll send a few men to reclaim the darkspawn bodies, no point in letting them go to waste, and we’ll have this prime research specimen at our disposal. Most impressive.”

Gadreel turned to Hawke and Merrill as Nathaniel took a coil of rope from his belt and bound The Seeker before putting a bag over the darkspawn’s head.

“Thank you so much for your co-operation, Champion, Lethallin. May I ask you to join me at Soldier’s Peak later for drinks to celebrate? It’s not as welcoming an environment as Vigil’s Keep, I grant you, but that particular fortress is a little too... bustling for my liking. So what do you say? Morrigan will be there, of course, as will Nathaniel, but I promise there’ll be no surprise visits from Templars or Avernus.”

Hawke wanted to turn him down, in fact she wanted to never here the name Soldier’s Peak again, but Merrill’s look of excitement at the mention of Morrigan told her she had no choice.

“Of course, Gadreel. It would be my pleasure.”

***

The Wardens and their mage friends were down in the main building, drinking. Good. That suited Avernus perfectly. He liked privacy while he worked.

The creature called The Seeker lay strapped to a table in the middle of his lab, stripped of armour and garments. The creature did not scream for help or mercy, it did not attempt wisecracks or bravado, it did not struggle against its bonds. It simply sat there, looking at Avernus with curiosity as the Warden researcher prepared his equipment. Once Avernus was done he approached the creature, tools laid out on the table, staff drawn, ready to work.

“My people speak of you, mage,” The Seeker declared in a harsh, grating voice. So he had finally decided to speak. Avernus had little interest in conversation with anyone, however, let alone test subjects and definitely not darkspawn ones.

“They all tell tales of you,” The Seeker continued. “Avernus the monster. Avernus the butcher. Avernus the war criminal. The Warden who likes to take darkspawn apart and stitch them back together again inside out. The Warden who drinks darkspawn blood from goblets made of our bones to wash down a meal of raw darkspawn flesh. The Warden who commits the atrocities so unspeakable that the Wardens must ward the tower to stop his evil from spilling out into the world. Is it worth it, your work? Is it worth the vile acts you have performed? Do you even care?”

Avernus didn’t care. While the darkspawn prattled on he drew a knife from his belt and drew a cut across the palm of his hand, feeling the power he drew from the blood rush through him. It was time to begin.


	4. At All Costs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke, Merrill, Gadreel and Nathaniel celebrate their capture of The Seeker with drinks at Soldier's Peak, allowing the sorcerer Avernus to conduct his research in peace

“... And he never came back to the Hanged Man on Sundays ever again!” Hawke finished her story as the others laughed and drank. “Poor Gideon,” Hawke sighed. “They never did find where he put that horse.”

“I’ve got one!” Nathaniel announced as the others cheered. “Ok, ok, so while I was squiring in the Free Marches...”

Hawke sat there laughing with the others as Nathaniel told his story, chuckling and cheering and pretending to drink. In reality she hadn’t drank a drop, and she’d advised Merrill to do the same.

“... Turns out they were all triplets!” Nathaniel finished as the others howled with laughter. It had been a good time, Hawke had to admit. Herself, Merrill, Gadreel and Nathaniel had spent the whole night drink and telling stories and having a grand old time, celebrating the capture of The Seeker. Despite her caution with the drink Hawke had begun to suspect she’d been wrong about Gadreel. She’d been too paranoid ever since they’d left Kirkwall. Maybe it was time to start trusting.

Hawke smiled as Merrill yawned and stretched. “Time for bed I think,” Hawke said with a laugh and a smile as she planted a kiss on Merrill’s cheek. “Mind if we turn in for the night?” Hawke asked Gadreel, who placed his tankard down on the table.

“Of course not,” Gadreel replied warmly. “It’s been a long night for all of us. A word, first, if I may, Champion? It won’t take a minute.”

Hawke followed Gadreel into the Soldier’s Peak commander’s office as Nathaniel and Merrill shook hands and headed off in different directions. Once the door of the office had closed behind them, Hawke saw Gadreel’s expression had turned serious.

“I cannot thank you enough for your help today, Champion,” Gadreel thanked her. “If only one of my Warden mages was half as good as you. To be honest, it’s getting harder and harder to get decent mage recruits since tensions arose in The Circle. The Chantry sees the Right of Conscription as seditious at times like these, fearing it will inspire droves of mages to flee The Circle in the name of joining the Wardens. Don’t worry,” Gadreel assured Hawke upon seeing her stunned expression. “I’m not asking to recruit you, or Merrill. But there is something I do need to know...” Gadreel sighed and mopped his brow. He looked ashamed. “I need Anders, Hawke. Where is he?”

“I should have known,” Hawke practically spat. “This is what all this has been about. You just want to drag Anders back to the Grey Wardens. Maker curse you, Mahariel. I should never have gotten involved with you.”

“Champion!” Gadreel was clearly flustered. “I didn’t plan for this, I assure you. There is no grand scheme or master plan. Just seeing you on the battlefield today reminded me of Anders, of what an asset he could have been to the Wardens. I see clearly how passionately protective of him you are but I was his friend once too. All I ask is that you allow me to send him a message at least. Just to make an offer. Vigil’s Keep has to be comfier than wherever he’s living now.”

“I’m sorry, Gadreel,” Hawke shook her head. “I truly am. But I don’t even know where Anders is. That’s the honest truth. I haven’t seen him since he left with the rebel mages after we left Kirkwall. If I knew where he was then MAYBE, just maybe I’d consider helping you. But I can’t.”

“Well thank you for being so straight with me, Champion,” Gadreel said, clearly disappointed. “But thank you all the same. Now, is this where we part ways?”

“I guess so,” Hawke said, a lot more reluctant to leave than she’d expected. “It’s been an honour meeting you, Hero of Ferelden, and it’s been good for Merrill too. Good luck with your mission, and I hope our paths cross again.”

***

Merrill cursed herself for being so foolish, leaving such a precious possession back at Soldier’s Peak. The sylvanwood ring Hawke had given her must have fallen off her finger while they were celebrating, or maybe she’d taken it off and forgotten about it. Either way, she just had to pop back in quickly to retrieve it while Hawke waited outside. She hoped she wasn’t too long, it was cold out there and Hawke hated the cold. It turned her nose all red.

“Returning to their cave, I believe...”

Merrill raised her eyebrow as she heard Gadreel’s voice coming from inside his office. Odd. She thought Nathaniel had gone to bed, and she didn’t think they let Avernus outside the tower. Who could possibly be visiting a place as remote as Soldier’s Peak, and at this time of night?

“A shame you couldn’t pin down the location of the terrorist...” Another voice sounded from the office, and it wasn’t one Merrill recognised. Whoever it was, though, it sent shivers down her spine. “I’ll send Silas and my men to follow them there, once we have them you’ll have your reward, I promise.” That same voice again, talking about something Merrill did not like the sound of.

“I’m glad we could come to an agreement...” Gadreel’s voice again.

Merrill didn’t like this. Whoever these people were, whatever they were talking about, she had to warn Hawke. She spied the ring under the table and dived for it, scooping it up and dashing out of Soldier’s Peak as fast as she could.

***

It was the following morning, and Gadreel wasn’t even hung over. He didn’t get hungover anymore, he had no idea why. It wasn’t The Joining. It was probably one of those fancy potions Avernus had cooked up for him.

“Nathaniel?” Gadreel called out into the main hall. “Are you there?”

“Here, sir,” Nathaniel stepped out of a side room, stretching. “You called?”

“I’m assumed you’re aware of the meeting I had last night with Knight-Captain Cedric,” Gadreel said. “Have you given his men the directions I provided to The Champion’s cave?”

Nathaniel nodded but the doubt was clear on his face. “Yes, sir, but...” Nathaniel sighed and furrowed his brow. “I must formally disagree with your decision. The Champion is a good woman, a friend. You and Merrill grew up together. You cannot truly agree with selling them to the Templars. This is not what the Grey Wardens are about, and as Warden-Commander I cannot allow it.”

Gadreel sneered at Nathaniel, shooting him a withering glare. “You are Warden-Commander in title alone, Howe. The orders you give to the other Wardens come from me. Your mouth speaks my words. Your hand is guided by mine. You will do whatever I say, you understand me? In Ferelden the Grey Wardens are whatever I say they’re about.”

“But sir-”

“Wardens do what is necessary to stop Blights, and the deal I have negotiated with the Templars will allow us to do just that. Do you have any idea what I can demand in exchange for the Champion of Kirkwall? Piles and piles of sovereigns to fund the Wardens. Legions of Templars and mages to undertake The Joining. Endless gallons of lyrium. It’s just a shame we couldn’t give them Anders; that would have tripled the reward. Well, you work with what you have.”

“And Merrill, sir? You grew up together.”

“There’s no point in turning her in, the reward for one blood mage is paltry. I’ve asked that Sir Silas brings her in alive. I will invoke the Right of Conscription and save her life, getting us a valuable new Warden in the process. I’m not a monster, Nathaniel, and I hate the Templars and Chantry just as much as the next man. I’m just willing to make the hard decisions. That is, of course, what being a Grey Warden is all about.”


	5. Oh, Grey Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Merrill return to their hideout, pursued by Silas Courthwaite and his Templars. Betrayed by their new Warden ally the Hero of Ferelden, the two apostates have nowhere to run

Hawke and Merrill had arrived at the cave Gadreel had found them in. No sign of any Templars or Wardens but they couldn’t be far off.

“You’re sure you heard them right?” Hawke asked. “Gadreel and Knight-Captain Cedric? The Templars are coming after us?” Hawke sighed and kicked the wall in frustration when Merrill nodded. “Maker fucking damn it, Gadreel. I trusted him. Not much, and not for long, but I trusted him. I thought we’d finally found an ally.”

“I thought I knew him,” Merrill sat down in the cave, head in hands. “I grew up with him. Where did it all go wrong?” Merrill then shook her head. “No, thinking about it, it makes sense. He was always so... driven. So passionate and dedicated. He’d have done anything for the Dalish. Now it looks like he’d do anything for The Wardens, including selling us out.”

Hawke sat next Merrill, gently placing an arm around her as the elf snuggled into her shoulder. They had no-one. But at least they had each other.

“Don’t worry,” Hawke said finally. “I have a plan.”

***

Silas Courthwaite lead his small band of Templars through the forest, following the map the Hero of Ferelden had given them to the Champion’s hideout. Their orders were clear: apprehend the two apostates, send the Champion to Val Royeaux for trial and the elf to Vigil’s Keep for The Joining. The reward the Hero would get for The Champion would be incredible, enough to turn the Ferelden Wardens into an army. And Silas would get one hell of a promotion for bringing in the Champion of Kirkwall in. Bet Cedric would take most of the credit for it though.

The Templars made it into the clearing, grinning as they saw the cave before them. They had the element of surprise, Templar training, armour and weapons. The Champion and her girlfriend had a spell or two that the Templars could easily block. The legendary Champion of Kirkwall was about to face her last fight.

“Hello there!” A merry voiced called from inside the cave, and Silas drew his sword when he saw Hawke step out. The Champion had a beaming smile on her face. “You’re Templars, aren’t you? I’m Tamra. Tamra Hawke. You’re Silas, aren’t you? The nice man from Soldier’s Peak. Are you staying for dinner?”

“Cut the act, Champion, or I’ll cut your throat,” Silas threatened. “Both of you are coming in quietly. Yes, I know Merrill is in there with you. I don’t want to kill either of you and neither of you want to die.” Silas cursed to himself silently. He’d hoped for the element of surprise, which was the key to taking down any mage. But still, what threat could two mages pose?

“Do come in, Silas,” Hawke said, still smiling, as she walked into the cave.

Silas shot a suspicious look back at his Templars before gesturing to them to follow as he headed into the cave. As the Templars entered the cave they saw the Champion and that elf, Merrill, sitting at the back of the cave playing cards.

“So glad you could join us, Silas,” Hawke said charmingly. “It’s so hard to play Wicked Grace with just two people.”

“I’m bringing you in, Champion,” Silas said plainly. “Stop this charade and co-operate.”

“I suppose it’s only fair I co-operate,” Hawke admitted. “After all, you’ve been perfectly co-operative so far.”

“What do you-”

Silas didn’t get to finish, not before Hawke tore off her gauntlet to reveal a bloody palm and slapped her hand onto the wall of the cave. Suddenly the cave lit up with blue light. Sigils etched all over the walls of the cave lit up blue and crackled with energy, energy that started to fly off the walls and latch onto the Templars. Silas screamed as lightning poured from the walls and enveloped him.

“I knew you were coming, Templar,” Hawke called to Silas, who could barely hear her over his own screams. “So I set up this little security system in preparation. A few years ago, back in Kirkwall, a lovely woman named Idunna helped point to the location of a very old book, one you might have heard of. The Fell Grimoire. I learned a lot of very, very useful tricks from it. This is one of them. It sets off the lyrium in a Templar, making their blood boil in their veins. Often with quite dramatic consequences.”

Hawke clicked her fingers and every Templar in the cave but Silas screamed as a massive surge of energy poured into them and they turned to dust.

“I’ve decided to spare you, Silas,” Hawke said as she strode menacingly towards Silas and caressed his face. “I want you to send a message back to Gadreel Mahariel, you hear me? Of course you do. The message is this: we’ll keep his secrets, we won’t go after him, but the next time Merrill and I see him, we kill him. Remember that, now. Make sure the good Warden hears it.”

Hawke clapped her hands and the sigils on the cave walls vanished, sending Silas collapsing to the ground and gasping for breath. The Templar dived for his sword but Hawke kicked him in the face.

“Go, Silas. Tell Gadreel what I told you. And tell your Templar friends to stay away from me, I have plenty more tricks where that came from.”

***

Gadreel read a letter from Weisshaupt while Avernus toiled away, carving up the body of The Seeker. Since Nathaniel had dispatched groups of Wardens to capture every Disciple they could find, as well as every regular darkspawn they could get their hands on, Avernus didn’t have much use for The Seeker anymore. Besides, the body was useful for research. Avernus had discovered some fairly ground-breaking things about the darkspawn and Taint from all his research, and he was just getting started.

“I have this new theory,” Avernus announced as he placed The Seeker’s black, oily heart into a jar. “And I think we have enough spare subjects for me to run tests on. I’m going to start summoning demons into the darkspawn, Disciples and darkspawn corpses. Mainly just to see what happens. Also, I would appreciate a few ghouls to test on. I have a few things I’d like to look into and they’d be perfect test subjects.”

“Whatever you say,” Gadreel said, not even looking up from his letter. “Whatever gets me results. I’ll tell Nathaniel to extradite a few murderers from the Amaranthine City dungeon and have them Tainted, then you’ll have your ghouls. I must say, Avernus, you’re making some exceptional leaps and bounds here. I knew you’d be an asset to the Wardens.”

There was a knock on the door, one Gadreel answered by clicking his fingers. Gadreel finished reading the letter and placed it on the table beside him as Nathaniel opened the door and stepped inside.

“Knight-Captain Cedric has sent a message, sir,” Nathaniel reported. “It would appear Silas’s mission failed. The Templars we sent are all dead and Courthwaite is the only survivor, some kind of dark magic used by the Champion.”

Gadreel cursed. “Creators damn it,” He sighed and pulled himself up out of his chair. “Well, nevermind. The whole thing was a gamble anyway. Tell Knight-Captain Cedric that we apologise for the losses he suffered, the Maker’s holy duty blah blah blah. And he’s not to breath a word of this to Knight-Commander Cyrus, I don’t need this kind of embarrassment being the talk of Amaranthine. Also everyone thinks I’m missing and I’d rather they kept thinking that.”

“The Champion had a message,” Nathaniel continued. “’We’ll keep his secrets, we won’t go after him, but the next time Merrill and I see him, we kill him’. Seems like that’s a friendship you won’t be rebuilding.”

“Meh,” Gadreel waved a dismissive hand. “I’d like to see them try and kill me. This whole endeavour was a waste of time. It’s time we get back to hunting down the Disciples and Ancient Magisters. Your men have rounded up a significant number of Disciples for Avernus, I want you to interrogate all of them that aren’t currently being used in research and find out anything they know about the Ancient Magisters. Dismissed.”

Nathaniel left the room, leaving Gadreel and Avernus. Gadreel sat down and picked up a book as Avernus continued dissecting The Seeker’s corpse. ‘Hard in Hightown’, the book was called. It sounded alright.

Gadreel Mahariel smiled to himself as he took a look around Avernus’s lab. Darkspawn bodies, dismembered and dissected, hanging from the walls like they were on display. Bottles of Tainted blood, jars of black organs, and a madman in the corner cutting up the body of a monster. Gadreel’s very own shop of horrors. But it was worth it, of course it was worth it. The darkspawn must be destroyed. Whatever the cost.


End file.
